


A LazyTown Carol

by CaptainLeBubbles



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Gen, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, hence the gen category, the ship is really minor though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8865616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLeBubbles/pseuds/CaptainLeBubbles
Summary: Robbie is #done with Christmas, so three mysterious visitors show up to change his mind.





	1. A Warning

**Author's Note:**

> I love Christmas Carol type stories, and Robbie is perfectly Scroogy for this.
> 
> The tagged-as-untagged characters are the Spirits. I don't want to give the game away about who they're going to be so you get to find out when Robbie does.
> 
> The rating is just cause a little bit of lazer-guided swearing in the third chapter.

-/-

Robbie was tired of Christmas. He’d always liked it before, but this year he was done. He was tired. Everything was so cheerful and loud, the children were attempting to be extra-well-behaved to get in any last-minute good list points and thus were being _more_  cheerful and loud than usual, and Sportacus-

“Hi Robbie!”

-Sportacus was being even more… _Sportacus_.. than usual.

He had also swapped out his awful blue hat for a more festive red and green one, apparently. It clashed horribly with his clothes.

“Hi, Sportacus,” Robbie replied, as flat and uninviting as he could. Sportacus had tied a piece of mistletoe to his goggles. Robbie wondered who he was expecting to get a kiss from.

“Why do you look so grumpy, Robbie?” Sportacus said. He fell into step beside the other, which only served to make Robbie seem even _more_  grumpy by comparison. “Come on, it’s Christmas! You should be happy!”

Robbie just shrugged. “I don’t like Christmas,” he said. “It’s too loud.”

“I thought you liked Christmas? You had so much fun last year! And you even tried to make dinner for us.”

“And ruined it. And nearly ruined the whole Christmas, for you and everyone else, too.”

“It wasn’t _that_  bad.” Sportacus hummed happily, and bounced into a handspring. Robbie said nothing when Sportacus fell back in beside him. He was honestly just surprised the other had waited that long.

“What are you doing here, Sportacus?”

“You really must be down, Robbie,” Sportacus said. “That’s the second time you’ve gotten my name right.”

“Did you have a reason to bother me?”

“You never r-s-v-p-ed Stephanie’s invitation to the Christmas dinner tomorrow,” he said. “I wanted to make sure you were going to be there.”

“I didn’t rsvp because I’m not coming. I thought that was clear.”

“No?” Sportacus looked sad, and Robbie turned away rather than see the hurt in those blue, blue eyes. “But everyone was really looking forward to seeing you!”

“You don’t have to lie, you know.”

“I’m not lying!” Sportacus looked even more hurt, then suddenly his face lit up. “I know! I have just the thing to cheer you up. Wait here.”

With that he backflipped away, off toward his flying… pedalcar… thing. Robbie ignored him and kept walking. Sportacus could catch up, he had no doubt, and maybe Robbie walking away would discourage him.

No such luck. Sportacus somersaulted back beside him a moment later, then dashed forward until he was facing Robbie, walking backwards so he could hold out a festively wrapped gift to him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a gift, for you!” Sportacus grinned, looking like the sun come down to Earth to play. “I know the gifts are supposed to wait till tomorrow at the dinner, but I thought maybe getting one now might cheer you up.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

Robbie looked down at the gift, then took it. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Actually, no.” Sportacus stopped, and folded his arms. “I’ve been told to give you a message. Are you ready for it?”

“I… guess so?”

Sportacus held up three fingers. “I’ve been told to tell you that tonight, you will be visited by _three_  spirits. They’re being sent to help you, so please cooperate with them.”

“….what.”

Sportacus just shrugged. “I’m just passing on the message. I don’t know who it’s from.”

Robbie stared at him for several long, silent moments, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His face was open and pure, but Robbie knew how to look deeper- knew how to see through the glamour that kept the kids believing his gentle little white lies about his diet, his abilities, his supposed humanity- and he did now. There was none there, nothing to suggest that Sportacus knew more than he’d said.

Which meant that some mysterious person had given him a message and intended to bother Robbie that night, probably to show him the meaning of Christmas or… something. And Robbie wasn’t dealing with this.

He vanished.

Sportacus stared at the suddenly empty street, watched the last traces of disappearing smoke. He sighed. “Merry Christmas, Robbie.”

-/-

Robbie reappeared in his lair and dropped the gift beside his chair with a sneer. What color would _these_  socks be, he wondered? Or maybe it was another attempt to feed him sportscandy. Robbie threw himself into his chair and folded his arms, glaring around at his lair and daring it to challenge him.

At least now he didn’t have to bother with the Christmas dinner. He already had his gift.

And the thought that he wouldn’t be missed, that they’d be happier without him, didn’t bother him at all. Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally made Sport seem kinda sinister with the glamor thing but he pretty much only uses it so the kids will believe him when he tells them that he's just an "above average" superhero and so they don't notice that he can do things like dead-lift pyramids and dive out of moving airships.


	2. A Trip Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie is visited by the Spirit of Christmas Past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the first spirit. You should be able to guess who the next two are from this one.
> 
> There's also a small cameo from a few of the characters who didn't survive the transition from stage to tele, because I was watching the stage version and am honestly a little bitter that Jives 2.o didn't survive because he's honestly. The best. I love him.
> 
> Milton, obviously, is meant to be Stephanie's father. Robbie hasn't quite made the connection between them, which is probably for the best because he despises Milton and _adores_ Stephanie (not that he'd ever admit it).

Robbie managed to fall into a fitful sleep while he grumped, sliding sideways to curl in his chair. He dreamed, fuzzy, distorted images that he couldn’t grasp or cling to. He was woken by the chiming of the town clock, a single bong that had him shooting up into the air and hitting the ground hard, cracking his chin against the concrete floor.

He climbed to his feet shakily, feeling his chin to assure that it wasn’t harmed, and became aware of a figure standing near him. The figure looked somewhat like him, though younger and sweeter and less touched by Robbie’s bitter cynicism. And familiar, until it hit Robbie that the figure was dressed in the same clothes Robbie had chosen to wear to last year’s Christmas dinner. He scowled. He didn’t like being mocked.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What do you want?”

“You don’t remember me, Wobbie?” The figure actually looked hurt, but the voice jarred something in Robbie’s memory and his eyes widened.

“ _Bobby_?”

A grin. “Yeah!”

“What are you doing here? And why are you wearing my clothes?”

“These are my clothes.” Bobby looked down at himself. “And I’m here cause I’ve been hired to show you Christmas.” He struck a pose. “I’m the ghost of Christmas past! I’m supposed to show you your past Christmases  so you can realize why you’re so bitter and sad and lonely.”

Robbie frowned. “You could have phrased that better.”

Bobby just shrugged, and grabbed Robbie’s hand. “Let’s go!”

-/-

Robbie shook his head when they reappeared in LazyTown. The teleporting wasn’t like his own, and had left him severely disoriented. He looked around- he was in the shopping district, and he could see Sportacus up ahead, carrying a stack of brightly wrapped boxes. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, _great_. It’s that- Sportaflippity-floppity. Did he put you up to this?”

“Nah, he’s not involved. We’re just here so you can see something important.”

“It’s not Sportaloser, is it? Because he’s not important, and I can see him anytime.”

“Just watch.”

Bobby folded his arms sternly, so Robbie, with much eye-rolling and grumbling, folded his own and stared pointedly at Sportacus as the other came toward him. He waited for the usual “Hi Robbie!”, but it never came. Sportacus walked right by him without a second look. Robbie gaped, and turned to him.

“Sportaflop? Hello! I’m here- aren’t you going to say hello?”

“He can’t see you,” Bobby said. “We’re not _really_  here. This is just a memory.”

“A memory? Whose memory?”

Bobby shrugged. Robbie sighed, and turned to storm off, only to realize that he was floating about a foot above the ground and being pulled along behind Sportacus.

“What- how are you doing this?”

“Shh, it’s starting!” Bobby put a finger to his lips and gestured emphatically. The pink girl was approaching Sportacus, but she looked different- younger than Robbie remembered her being when he’d seen her earlier. It did help him time the memory, though- it was from two Christmases ago, a few months after Sportacus had first arrived in LazyTown.

“Hi, Sportacus!” she said brightly. Sportacus grinned.

“Hi, Stephanie!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Christmas shopping.” He gestured at the stack of boxes in his hands. “I’m just going to drop these off at the aircar. Want to come with me?”

“Sure!”

She skipped along after him while they headed to the park, where the aircar was hovering just above the ground. “So are you done with your shopping, Sportacus?”

“Almost,” he said. “I’ve just got one more gift to get, for Robbie.”

“You’re getting a gift for Robbie?”

“Of course!” They’d reached the aircar. He began setting the gifts in it carefully and turned to Stephanie. “He seems so lonely. I think he’s not so bad, really. I think he just wants to play with us, and be friends!”

Stephanie nodded slowly. “I mean… I guess?”

“I’m thinking, if I give him a present, maybe he’ll realize that I want to be friends, too. And then he’ll understand he can come play with us without needing to play any of his tricks, or use his disguises.”

“I think he _likes_  his disguises, but okay,” Stephanie said. “What are you going to give him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know him that well. What does he like?”

“Cake.”

“I can’t give him cake.” Sportacus frowned. “I know he likes it, and it’s _okay_  to eat cake sometimes, but I’d feel bad encouraging him to be so unhealthy. Anyway, I want to give him something he can use.”

“Well.” Stephanie pursed her lips. “He likes clothes. You’ve seen all his costumes, he _has_  to like clothes.”

“True.” Sportacus tapped his chin thoughtfully, then brightened. “I know! I have just the thing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He did an excited handspring. For once, Robbie was close enough to see the fondly indulgent look on Stephanie’s face, rather than the awe and wonder he had always assumed the kids always had. He’d have to reconsider his stance on the pink girl, if she was this aware of how ridiculous her hero was.

“So what’s your idea?” Stephanie asked, when Sportacus rejoined her.

“Well, I was thinking, it probably gets really cold in that bunker, right? And Robbie likes clothes, right? So I’ll get him a nice warm pair of socks!”

“Socks for Christmas?” Stephanie raised an eyebrow at Sportacus. Robbie mentally raised her a few tiers in his personal consideration. Sportacus just laughed.

“I know it’s not a spectacular gift, but it’ll be something he can use, and maybe getting a gift will show him that we’re willing to be friends. It’s a- a _start_.”

“Okay, Sportacus. Maybe you’re right.”

“I hope so! I can only try, after all. I have to go, Stephanie, I’ll see you later! Merry Christmas!”

With that, he backflipped away, leave Stephanie to wander off to the sports field, where there was a snowball fight going on. Robbie and Bobby remained behind, and slowly the scene began to darken like a stage. Robbie faintly heard a sound he associated with stagehands changing the scenery, and as the sounds stopped the lights began to brighten again and, sure enough, the “scene” had changed.

“Take two,” Bobby said, grabbing Robbie’s hand again, and pulling him toward the town hall.

Everyone was leaving town all as they arrived. They were talking excitedly, and for some reason Santa was with them. Ah, that must mean this was last year, then, if Santa was there.

The others carried on ahead, but Santa stopped and pulled Stingy back from the others. He knelt to talk to him.

“Stingy, are you sure you want to give Robbie your gift?”

Stingy bit his lip, and nodded. “Yes. I’m sure. I mean, I don’t really _want_  to, but.” He looked down at the package in his hands. “It feels _right_.”

“Really? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure.” Stingy carried on staring at the gift, grip tightening a little instinctively. “But I think… Robbie is our friend. And I think people don’t give him things very often.” Stingy’s brow furrowed, as if whatever he was thinking was very complicated and even hurt him a little. “I think… that I have lots of people who give me wonderful gifts, but Robbie doesn’t. And I think. Maybe. He’d like to be given something.”

Santa nodded. “But this will mean you don’t get any gift at all.”

“I know.” Stingy’s grip on the gift tightened again, but he held his head up and squared his shoulders. “But. That’s okay.”

Santa just smiled at him, and stood before putting his hand on Stingy’s shoulder. “You’re a very good boy, Stingy.”

The lights had faded again before the pair had disappeared, and Robbie’s shoulders drooped. He hadn’t realized Stingy had given him _his_  gift- he’d assumed the apple was just something they grabbed from the bowl, when they’d realized he wasn’t getting anything himself. He put a hand over his mouth, stifling a sob.

Bobby was watching him out the corner of his eye. Robbie cleared his throat and straightened his waistcoat.

“So are you done showing me sob stories?”

“There’s just one more,” Bobby said. The lights were coming up again, and they hadn’t not quite brightened all the way when Robbie realized where they were. He took a step back, or tried to, eyes wide.

“No,” he said, and tried again. “I won’t go back there.”

“Oh, come on, Wobbie!” 

Bobby grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house, where a group of children were sprawled on the floor beside an enormous Christmas tree, coloring handmade Christmas cards under the watchful eye of a Sportacus-like man in a yellow and green uniform, with a number nine on his chest. Robbie covered his eyes. He couldn’t watch.

Robbie uncovered his eyes a moment later, of course. It was like watching a train wreck. He couldn’t look away.

As he looked on, a call came from the next room, and then the door swung open to a young woman carrying an enormous turkey. She hurried over to the table and set it down, and was followed by a young man carrying a pie, and then another carrying a tray of fruits and vegetables. Robbie scowled instinctively. Gross. Sports candy.

“Time for dinner, kids!” called the man in green-and-yellow. IX, he was called, for the numberals on his chest and back. The kids had always pronounced it “Ix”, not quite able to grasp the concept of Roman numerals. IX had never argued, stating that Ix was as good a name as any other that someone might give him.

(He’d been the one to explain to Robbie about true names. Robbie thought about that sometimes. Those days hadn’t been all bad, he supposed. Not perfect, not by a longshot, but IX had been kinder to him than he’d been able to accept, and far more than he’d deserved. Sometimes he had the clarity of thought to realize that.)

The kids all clamored around the table, talking loudly and happily while IX hung up the cards they’d made. Robbie looked around and- ah, there he was, his own younger self. Long and gangly- approximately the same amount of arm and leg as now, with about half as much torso, and between that and the buck teeth and the ears that he’d never quite grown into, he looked more like a newborn foal than a child.

Oh well, at least he’d turned out handsome.

The dinner was not particularly interesting to watch. Young Robbie was sat between young Milford and Milton Meanswell, which suited him. Milford had spent the whole time attending Bessie and ignoring Robbie, and on his other side, Milton stared dreamily out the window, ignoring _everyone_.

Across from them, Jives and Penny chattered about… something. Robbie had never been able to follow Jives’ slang, and as for Penny… he’d tended to tune her out. He could remember, now, why.

It was after dinner that things went downhill. IX went over to the tree to gather the presents and pass them out, and things got louder- young Robbie sank down into his seat, while the older covered his eyes again, because both knew what was coming. Robbie moved closer to his younger self, wondering if he could be some comforting presence.

The pile of gifts in IX’s arms was shrinking. Soon it was gone, and all of the children had gifts.

All but Robbie. The younger version squirmed, and sank down into his seat, trying to avoid notice.

No such luck. Jives looked up from the lovely new trowel he’d been given, and raised his eyebrows comically high. “Yo!” he exclaimed. “Where’s Robbie’s gift?”

IX moved over to the tree, and looked around, but there was nothing. The young Robbie looked on the verge of tears, and the older Robbie tried again to comfort him, resting a hand on his shoulder and frowning when it passed through.

“There’s nothing here,” IX said. “I’m sorry, Robbie.”

“Probably he was on the naughty list,” Milton said, still staring dreamily out the window. “He has been very bad this year.”

“I haven’t!” both Robbies said at once, the younger’s lip wibbling, voice wavering as he fought back tears. “I’ve been- I’ve been… I haven’t been _that_  naughty.”

“There must be a reason,” IX said, reassuringly. “Why don’t I send a message to Santa, and ask? Maybe he just dropped it, and didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s definitely the naughty thing,” Milton said, finally dragging his eyes away from the window. “It’s what you get for taking Bessie’s dolls, and Penny’s money.”

“And for _totally_  ruining my garden,” Jives said. He looked thoughtful. “Twice.”

“Don’t forget all the tantrums because we wouldn’t play _his_  games,” Penny added. “Yeah, it’s probably the naughty thing.”

Young Robbie pounded his fists on the table, pushing himself to his feet. “I have _not_  been too naughty! Santa just.. doesn’t like me, that’s all!”

The tears he’d been fighting were pooling now, and he pushed his chair back, knocking it down in his haste to reach the door. He didn’t want them to see him cry.

The adult Robbie was dragged along after them, and he watched his younger self stop outside of the house, saw him scrub away his tears and stare out into the empty night, lost and alone, saw the way his expression hardened, saw the twisted, mirthless grin that was followed, a mere moment later, by him clapping twice. Inside, the protests of the other children- no doubt over the gifts that had just vanished into thin air- could be heard, but not for long, because the young Robbie vanished as well, and the lights began to fade again.

“That was kind of mean,” Bobby said, when they’d returned. He was ignored.

They were in the lair, and Robbie collapsed into his chair, curling up around himself. He could remember that night. That was the night he’d stopped _trying_  to be good, the night he’d embraced his natural role as _villain_.

IX had been gone by next Christmas. _He_  hadn’t been that hard to run out of town. Not like Sportacus.

Speaking of Sportacus.

Robbie’s eyes landed on the gift Sportacus had given him, lying discarded on the floor beside his chair. He picked it up and fingered the ribbon thoughtfully.

“Bobby-” he started, but when he looked up, the younger Rotten was gone. Robbie frowned. Now where had he gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if it was Bobby or Tobby who couldn't pronounce his 'r's, but I do know it was Bobby who couldn't pronounce his 'v's, so I'm gonna go with that.
> 
> (I love the Robbielings. They're so cute.)


	3. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second spirit shows Robbie how wrong he is about how welcome he isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chef Pablo! I was thinking about him this morning and all my headcanons about him and Sportacus and decided to throw him in. I like to think he visits LazyTown when he wants to take a break from being a hugely successful meme chef.

Robbie was still fiddling with the gift a few minutes later when a double-bong from the town clock sent him leaping over the back of his chair in shock, the gift flying out of his hands and landing somewhere else in his lair, unnoticed.

He climbed slowly to his feet, rising above the back of the chair slowly and peering around his lair.

There was another figure there, this one just as much like him as the last but a bit smaller, and wearing an ugly Christmas sweater over his striped suit. He was beaming, and Robbie would know that angelic smile anywhere. He moved closer cautiously.

“Tobby?”

“Hiiii, Robbie!” Tobby took his hand. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present! I’m going to show you what your friends are doing this night! Let’s go!”

There was no ‘scene change’ this time; instead, the colors swirled and blended around them and recreated themselves in a new shape, in this case, the town hall, where Stephanie and her uncle were putting up some last minute decorations for tomorrow.

The mayor was holding a banner that read “Merry Christmas” in festive letters, and he had Stephanie holding the ladder while he pinned it up. Stephanie didn’t look all the way there, though; when the mayor was safely on the floor again, she wandered aimlessly over to the table and tugged at the tablecloth, straightening it needlessly and smoothing an imagined wrinkle. Her uncle noticed, of course, and came over to join her.

“Stephanie, what’s wrong?”

Stephanie shrugged, and tugged at the tablecloth again. “Sportacus said Robbie isn’t going to come to Christmas dinner with us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The Mayor put his hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “But don’t feel sad. I’m sure we can still have fun anyway.”

“But it won’t be the _same_ ,” Stephanie protested. “Christmas is a time for family, and we’ll all be up here having fun while a part of our family is sitting at home alone in a cold bunker, probably thinking we don’t even miss him.”

“Oh, _Stephanie_.”

“It’s not _fair_.” She pillowed her head on her arms. “We’ve all been working so _hard_  to help him, Sportacus even said he thought we were getting through to him. But it’s like this is a huge step back, you know?”

“I know.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “I wish there was something I could tell you to make you feel better.”

Robbie barely noticed as the scene began swirling again. He touched his eye, surprised when his fingers came away wet. Was he crying? Why was he crying? He rounded on Tobby.

“That was hitting below- where are we now?” 

He looked around. He didn’t recognize this house, but- but there was that smarmy chef sitting at the table, that fondly indulgent look on his face while he looked past Robbie. Robbie turned, not at all surprised to see Sportacus doing one-handed handstand pushups behind him. He rolled his eyes. The man literally couldn’t turn it off, could he? How tiring.

“So what are you going to do?” Pablo asked. 

Robbie curled his lip. Pablo was around approximately never, preferring to be off taking care of his other, far more successful restaurants. Robbie wasn’t sure what had prompted him to decide he was spending Christmas at his LazyTown restaurant this year, but he wished he’d go away.

“I don’t know that there’s anything I _can_  do,” Sportacus said, eyes trained on his hand as he went up and down, up and down. “We can keep trying, but I don’t want to push too hard and push him away. But the kids will be so disappointed that he’s not there.”

“Yeah, and we can’t disappoint the… kids.”

Both Robbie and Sportacus looked up at the significant pause in Pablo’s comment.

“They love him,” Sportacus said. “They said he comes up with the best games. Better than mine, even!” There was a laugh in his voice. “But it’s not just that they love him. They worry about him. Nothing they do seems to help, and he always seems so _lonely_ , and his schemes are getting more and more dangerous and they’re afraid he’s going to get hurt.”

“With you there? Never.”

“I’ll do what I can, of course.” There was a pause, while Sportacus swapped hands. “I guess all I can do is keep encouraging the kids to show him they care in whatever ways they can. But I do hate to think of him spending Christmas alone…”

“At least you gave him his gift already,” Pablo pointed out. “Maybe once he opens it he’ll change his mind.”

Sportacus laughed. “He’ll probably hate it. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“You know exactly what you were thinking.You were thinking ‘fresh ingredients! Passion!-’” He cut off at a look from Sportacus, and shrugged. “You know I’m right.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He lowered his hand and dropped into proper pushup before leaping up, spinning into a standing position. Pablo stood.

“Want a quick snack before you take off?”

“No, thank you. It’s almost eight o’clock, I should head out. Good night, Pablo!”

He headed toward the door, but the scene was already swirling out, this time taking a long time to fade back into place. Robbie frowned. They were on the airship, and the platform at the base was raising, bringing Sportacus into view. He didn’t notice Robbie, and Robbie remembered that they weren’t visible. The thought made him kind of sad. He hadn’t realized how much he liked it that Sportacus never failed to notice him, until he didn’t.

“I like this place,” Tobby said. “Seems kinda lonely, though. Up here away from everyone. Got a nice Christmas tree, though.”

And it did. And lots of Christmas baubles, all hanging from the walls. Robbie wandered over to the tree, ignoring Sportacus going through his bedtime routine (and ignoring him _very hard_  when he started undressing, blushing furiously).

“Why are we here?” Robbie asked Tobby, when Sportacus ignored the clothes lain out on his bed and started doing naked pushups. The two Rottens were staring very pointedly out the front windows, matching blushes painting their faces red.

“Well, there’s something you’re supposed to see-”

“It’s not that, is it?” Robbie jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Because…”

He trailed off. ‘Because I don’t want to’ would be too big a lie even for him, and ‘because I only want to see it if he volunteered’ was bringing up things he’d prefer to keep repressed. Tobby just shook his head.

“No, not that, I didn’t know he was going to do that, I think I just mistimed- oh, oh, he’s putting his clothes back on.”

And he was. They gave him an extra minute or so, then turned around so they could watch him pace back and forth across the airship, clearly agitated about something. While they looked on, he grabbed his telescope and called the door open, stepping out onto the platform and sitting on the end. It must be cold up so high, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead he pointed his telescope at the northern end of town- no points for guessing what he was looking at.

“What am I going to do with you, Robbie?” he said quietly. He let out a long, slow breath. “Why is it so hard for you to accept kindness? Friendship? Affection?”

“I don’t know how,” Robbie murmured. He lowered himself to sit next to Sportacus, wishing the other could see and hear him. “I don’t even know how to recognize it.”

“I’m just trying to make you _happy_ ,” Sportacus said. There was frustration curling his tone, and Robbie flinched a little. “I just wish you’d stop fighting me on it.”

Robbie said nothing, watching the frustration work over Sportacus’s face before the other threw his hands up and tossed the telescope back into the ship, where it landed neatly in its slot. Sportacus, meanwhile, dropped down from the platform, doing somersaults through the air until he’d landed on the ground with a roll. Robbie turned his gaze skyward. He supposed that this late, all the kids would be in bed, and there was no reason for Sportacus to pretend he needed safety equipment.

He and Tobby followed at a more sedate pace, landing about a foot off the ground a few feet away. Sportacus’s airship was complaining at him about the hour.

“It’s after eight-oh-eight,” the smooth voice said. “You should be asleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” Sportacus said. “I’m too frustrated. I’m going to go for a run, and see if that helps.”

He took off running into the night, leaving Robbie and Tobby behind. Robbie didn’t miss the fact that the airship just _happened_  to be over the billboard, that they were a short walk- or two backflips- away from the entry to his house. He walked over to the billboard and sat down, pleased when he was _able_  to sit down and not pass right through, and buried his face in his hands.

“Even when I’m not _trying_  I mess everything up,” he said. He let out a choked sob, and raised his head- and Tobby was gone, the billboard was gone, and he was back in his lair, seated on the end of his chair, and it was cold and he was suddenly aware of _how_  cold his bunker was, and _how_  empty. He grumbled, and went off to find a blanket.

He wasn’t sure when the third one would turn up, but he could at least try to get warm while he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is Flobby of the Future. Fun times to be had by all~


	4. Greetings From the World of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flobby shows Robbie the future if he carries on the path he's on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But hey, at least I didn't include a funeral.

Robbie found Sportacus’s gift while he was searching for a blanket, lying on the floor half under one of his machines. He picked it up and brushed the dirt off. Now how had it ended up over there? He headed back to his chair with it, blanket forgotten, tugging at the bow as he did.

He let the ribbon fall as he opened it, tearing more carefully than usual into the bright foil wrapping. Ribbon and wrapper fell to the floor, and then Robbie sank slowly down into his chair when he got the box open.

A hat. And gloves. And a scarf. All hand-knitted from the softest wool, with a simple pattern of wide burgundy and purple stripes offset by thin gold lines, to match his outfit. Robbie’s breath caught in his throat. What was it that chef had said? _Fresh ingredients_?

Sportacus had made this for him.

Sportacus had _made this_  for him.

Sportacus had sat down with knitting needles and wool, _sat down_ , and spent- what, five hours? Six? Robbie was a pretty good hand with a pair of knitting needles but he tended to use magic to speed up production. Would Sportacus have done the same? Would he have even known _how_? Or would he have just done all of the work without aid?

Robbie touched the scarf to his cheek. It was soft, silky smooth. There would be no itch at his throat from wearing it. Just warmth, warmth and the knowledge that giving him something had been more important to Sportacus than his incessant need to move.

After everything _, Sportacus had made this for him_.

Robbie choked back a sob.

There was a note in the box. Robbie put on the scarf and hat and hung the gloves around his neck so he could read it. It was from Sportacus, written on blue paper in his untidy scrawl.

 _Robbie  
__Try to keep warm, okay? Merry Christmas!_  
_< 3, Sportacus_

There was a doodle under the note, a childishly simple pair of figures holding hands. Robbie snorted.

A hand touched the small of his back just then, and Robbie shrieked and leapt into the air, coming down in the arms of the small, Robbie-like figure behind him. This one was much shorter and stockier, but there was still the resemblance to the other two, and Robbie could see the edges of the familiar suit peeking out from under the black hooded robe he wore.

Robbie lowered himself carefully, and tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat, trying to save face.

“Well then,” he said. “Flobby, right?” A nod. “I suppose you’re the ghost of ~Christmas future~?” Another nod. Robbie sighed. “Well, all right then, let’s go.”

Flobby beamed, and clapped once. In an instant, with no transition of any kind, they were away from the lair and back in town hall, where Christmas decorations were being put up. The hall looked the same as ever, and couldn’t be too far into the future given that the kids looked more-or-less the same age. He thought maybe the cookie boy looked a little taller, but that was it. Next year, then. The kids were too close to adolescence to make it through two more years without any real, noticeable changes.

There was a distinct lack of cheer to the place, though. Robbie frowned. Usually they were a lot more noisy and happy while they put up decorations.

The Mayor came in while they were working. He looked around at their long faces and sighed.

“Oh come on, kids, cheer up. It’s Christmas!”

“Sorry, Uncle,” Stephanie said. “We’re just not feeling it, I guess.”

“There, there, Stephanie.” He patted his niece’s back reassuringly while the other kids put down their work and joined them. “I know you all miss Sportacus, but he wouldn’t want you to feel down at Christmas, of all times.”

“What?” Robbie’s hand came up to touch the scarf at his throat. Sportacus was gone? Had he _succeeded_?

Why didn’t that make him feel happy?

It certainly didn’t make the kids happy. They shuffled over to sit down on the various surfaces, despondent looks pulling their faces down. Stephanie folded her arms.

“He should be here,” she said. “With us. For Christmas, at least.”

“But Stephanie, you know he can’t. The kids in his new town need him- for Christmas _especially_.

“Well what about us?” the computer boy protested. “We need him too! Don’t we matter anymore?”

“Of course you do!” The Mayor looked distressed. He shifted enough he could pat the kid- _Pixel_!- on the arm. “Sportacus _loves_  you kids, you know that. But he’s a superhero, and superheroes have to go where they’re needed most. And you kids- well, you don’t _need_  Sportacus anymore. The kids in BullyTown do.”

“That wasn’t why he left at all,” said the loud girl- Trixie, her name was Trixie. She stood and kicked irritably at her chair. “It was that Robbie _Rotten_  that drove him off. We all know it!”

“That’s not true!” Stephanie protested. “You _know_  it’s not true, Trixie. Robbie didn’t have anything to do with Sportacus leaving.”

“Of course he did!” Trixie threw her arms up. “Sportacus goes to see Robbie, and like five minutes later _suddenly_  he’s needed elsewhere? How do _you_  explain it?”

“Coincidence?” Stephanie suggested weakly. The other kids scoffed. It was apparent this conversation had happened before; she stomped her foot in frustration. “Well, maybe he did, then! But that’s no reason we should have stopped inviting him to play with us!”

“I think it’s a pretty _damn_  good reason!” Trixie shouted. She was almost in Stephanie’s face now, the shorter of the two but trying desperately to be taller, trying and failing to loom over her friend. “He made it pretty clear he didn’t care about _us_! _I_  don’t know why we tried for so long as we did!”

“Because it’s wrong to give up on a friend!”

“Well sometimes you have to know when to let it go!” Trixie folded her arms and gave up on looming. “That’s what _Sportacus_  told us, remember? The most important lesson he could teach us, to know when you’ve done all you can? Even Sportacus was able to figure out Robbie was a lost cause, so why can’t you!”

“Because Sportacus taught me to think for myself!” They were toe to toe now, Stephanie taking full advantage of her height compared to Trixie, which only served to make Trixie more frustrated. “Even if it’s against what he told me, I have to make my own conclusions, and _I’m_  concluding that Robbie isn’t a lost cause! Sportacus couldn’t get through to him, but maybe I can!”

And with that, she spun on her heel and stormed out into the snow, slamming the door behind her hard enough to knock the sign from the wall.

Robbie and Flobby were dragged along after Stephanie as she stormed away. Robbie was chewing his thumbnail anxiously- he didn’t like to see Stephanie _angry_ , upset he could live with but the thought of something driving her to real _anger_  twisted something inside him that he hadn’t known existed.

Flobby, well, Flobby was enjoying the floating. Robbie ignored him, and tried to move closer to Stephanie, tried to put a hand on her shoulder, comfort her in some way.

His hand passed through her, as it had done everyone else all night, but she did stop, and hesitate, and look around as though she could sense she wasn’t alone. After a pause, she shivered and kept going, headed through town to the billboard that separated Robbie’s home from the rest of the town.

He wondered what he’d been up to since Sportacus had left, in this timeline. Celebrating, probably. Why wouldn’t he be? He’d succeeded and gotten everything he wanted. Probably he’d eaten an entire cake and then slept for three days. Probably he got to take all the naps he wanted to, now, without Sportacus there to annoy him all the time. Probably he was left alone, now, no one to bother him or interrupt him or talk to him or listen to him or give him a big, friendly smile while chirping “Hi, Robbie!” like the sun come down from the sky just to see him.

Probably he wasn’t very happy at all, to be honest.

Stephanie had reached the hatch, and was banging on it. Robbie winced.

“Robbie! Robbie Rotten!” she called. “I know you’re in there! Answer me!”

When there was no answer, Stephanie climbed up onto the hatch to sit down, hugging her knees to her chest. The adrenaline that had carried her here seemed to have faded, leaving her shivering and on the verge of tears. Robbie tried again to touch her shoulder, drawing his fist up in frustration when it once more passed straight through her. He let out an angry, guttural growl at how useless he was, how miserable Stephanie was and the knowledge that it was somehow _his_  fault.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted.

Nobody had been this miserable when IX had left.

But then… for IX they had all just been a job. Just another case to solve, and he’d instilled a level of independence in them while guiding their growth. In the months before Robbie had turned on everyone, he’d confided that this was the way of heroes like him, to make sure their charges were strong enough to move on when the time came.

Sportacus had apparently never gotten that memo, had fallen in love with each and every child in his charge, had fallen in love with the town and everyone in it, had wrapped LazyTown around himself and become an inextricable part of it.

And Robbie had ruined that. He sat down on the hatch, back to Stephanie, and mirrored her pose.

“I’ve really fucked this one up, haven’t I?” he asked.

In front of him, Flobby just nodded, then grinned and flashed him a thumbs up.

And just like that, they were back in the lair. Robbie was seated on his chair. He leapt up, startled. Was it over already?

Robbie jumped to his feet, and hurried over to the exit. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could put things right. Maybe he could go them and-

-and maybe he was still inside the memory or whatever it was. He made a frustrated noise and tried again to grab the exit hatch, only to have his hand pass through. He rounded on Flobby.

“We’re not done?”

Flobby just shook his head, and pointed up at the entry tube. Robbie narrowed his eyes, and followed the direction he was indicating. There were voices coming down the tube, echoing too much to be distinct. After a moment, two figures dropped down into the lair.

A lot of time had passed. That much was apparent, because the two figures standing before him had aged at least a decade since the last vision. One was instantly recognizable- a pink-haired figure in an outfit that had, quite clearly, been modeled on Sportacus’s, with a few personal touches that even Robbie couldn’t fault. The other was harder to recognize, but he thought it might be Trixie- though her hair had been cut boyishly short, and she was wearing a pair of heavy and incredibly unflattering coveralls that made her figure lumpy and uneven. He frowned. Adults. His kids were  _adults_.

And then he realized what he’d just thought, and sat down very heavily on thin air.

“What the fuck are we even doing here, Pinkie?” Trixie demanded.

Stephanie didn’t answer immediately, just moved into the middle of the lair and looked around sadly. Robbie looked around too, and now noticed in what horrible state his lair was. The machines were broken down and rusted over, a musty, stale scent hung in the air, and a layer of dust coated every surface. It was clear that the place hadn’t been occupied in years.

“Stephanie?” Trixie moved nearer. Stephanie just sighed.

“I was… hoping he’d be here,” she said. She ran a hand over one dusty surface with a sigh. “I know we haven’t seen him in years but I’d hoped… you know. Maybe he was only coming out at night or something.”

“Looks like he beat it ages ago,” Trixie said, folding her arms and looking around with distaste. “Well, good riddance, we’re better off without him.”

Stephanie just sighed, and sat down on the chair- as dusty and run down as everything else in the lair. “I guess you’re right,” she said quietly.

Trixie moved over to join her, scooching her over so they could squeeze onto the chair together. Stephanie leaned against her, and Trixie gave her a comforting hug.

“You tried, Pinkie,” she said. “You tried harder than everyone- even Sportacus. But you gotta know when to let go and just.. move on.” She sighed. “Some people just don’t want to be helped.”

Stephanie nodded slowly against Trixie’s shoulder. “Okay, Trixie.”

They stayed like that for awhile longer, and Robbie hovered nearby, annoyed that he couldn’t offer them any comfort at all. Eventually they stood and began trailing to the exit.

“Anyway, at least it’s Christmas tomorrow,” Trixie said, in an attempt to cheer them up.

“What’s the point?” Stephanie replied. She pulled the lever. “It doesn’t even feel like Christmas when there’s only two of us.”

Somewhere in the distance the clock chimed four times, and Robbie became aware that at some point he’d been returned to his lair. Flobby was nowhere to be seen, and everything was back in good repair. Robbie rubbed his eyes, surprised when sleep dust fell from his eyelashes. Had he been sleeping this whole time? Was it all just a dream?

He rubbed his eyes again, and touched his throat. But- no! He was wearing the scarf! And the hat and gloves as well, it wasn’t a dream! He jumped to his feet. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I haven't been doing the Robbielings justice in this, but they're such visual characters it's hard to work with them in a written medium when your pov character is as self-absorbed as Robbie.
> 
> I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter.


	5. There Is Literally Nothing Sad About This Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie takes his first step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! There's gonna be a short epilogue, but this is pretty much the end. I hope I was able to wrap up any confusing threads that came up in the visions.

Robbie woke up when the town clock bonged the eleventh hour. He was hunched over his work table, his sewing machine still humming slightly beside him, the last gift half-finished in his hands. He snorted and looked around with wild, frantic eyes- but no, he was at home, and there were no more ghosts.

He touched the last gift, and a small smile came to his face. He had just enough time to finish it and get ready for the dinner, if he hurried.

Fortunately, he was good at that. A grin lit up his face and he got back to work. This last one was Trixie’s, and he wanted to do something extra special with it.

-/-

They all began gathering at the town hall around noon, chattering happily about the gifts Santa had left for them that morning, and carrying more to be given out at dinner. Sportacus was already there, doing pushups on the bench outside, bare arms gleaming in the morning sun. When he saw them approaching, he jumped to his feet and hurried over to join them.

“Hi, guys!” he said. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Sportacus!” they called back, all breathless and flushed with their Christmas cheer and a little bit the cold.

He followed them inside, and noticed that Stephanie looked around hopefully when she went in, before her face fell. He came over and knelt before her.

“Stephanie?”

“I was hoping he’d be here,” she said. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t count him out just yet,” he said. “It’s still pretty early by Robbie’s standards.”

This at least made her giggle. “True.” She sighed. “I hope he comes.”

-/-

According to the clock, it was noon thirty by the time Robbie finished getting the kids’ gifts wrapped up. He was already running late- he’d have to teleport. He gathered up the gifts in his arms, kicked into a spin to change clothes, and then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Sportacus was outside when Robbie reappeared within sight of the town hall. He moved over to help him with the armload of gifts that were in danger of toppling over, face splitting into a wide grin when he realized Robbie was wearing the scarf and hat and gloves he’d made for him.

“Hi Robbie!” he said delightedly. Robbie froze, and gave him a stunned look.

“Sportacus,” he said slowly. “Hi.”

“Are you okay, Robbie?”

“I’m fine.” Robbie snapped his attention to the two boxes still in his hands, the three Sportacus had taken from him. His cheeks were pink. “I’m very tired.”

They started heading toward the hall, and Sportacus laughed. “You’re always tired. Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

“Some,” Robbie admitted. “But I was too busy working on these-” He gestured to the gifts. “-so not much.”

“You made these all last night?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly turn up empty handed, could I? Don’t get impressed until you see them, they’re _far_  from my best work.”

“I’m sure the kids will love them anyway.”

He laughed again, and pushed the door open for Robbie before following him into the hall.

“Hey everyone!” Sportacus said. “Look who I found outside!”

“Robbie Rotten!” Robbie flinched at the shout, but stopped when he realized there was no mean spirit behind it, and the kids all flocked around him.

“You made it!” Stephanie said, bouncing. He turned his attention to her, and she gave him a smile. “I was hoping you would.”

“Yes, well.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “Who am I to argue with free food and gifts?”

-/-

Dinner came. They all took their usual places, and Robbie was placed at the opposite end than Sportacus, so that he only had to look up to see the other any time he wanted.

He kept his eyes glued to his plate the whole time he ate, ears and cheeks furiously pink.

By the time dinner was over, and it was time to pass out the gifts, Robbie had been drawn into a chat with Pixel about computers, something he’d never quite been able to get the hang of but which Pixel’s creations were completely dependent on.

“I bet you could figure them out really easy if you had someone to show you,” Pixel said. “You’re so smart- you’ve built all these really cool machines, I bet it’d be child’s play for you.”

“You’re a child, and your version of playing is rigging up the entire town with machines that allow you to participate in everything without leaving your room.”

“And do you know what I found when I was doing that rigging? _Your_  contraptions already there.”

“ _I’m_  a villain,” Robbie pointed out. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’m a kid.”

The absurdity of the excuse was enough to give Robbie pause, and before he could properly form a response Sportacus was calling out that it was time to pass out presents. Robbie turned back to his plate and nibbled at a piece of turkey. He already had his gift, and he didn’t mind not getting anything with the others, but it still brought back painful memories to watch everyone else be given gifts and not him, not when the wound had been so recently reopened.

Once the kids had their gifts piled around them and Sportacus had moved on to the adults, though, Robbie got a surprise in the form of Stephanie at his elbow, holding two packages out to him. He stared in shock.

“For me?”

“Of course for you!” Stephanie said, giggling. Robbie reached out hesitantly, but didn’t take the gifts just yet.

“But- but I already-” He touched his throat, and glanced up at the coathook, where they were hanging up with his coat. Sportacus saw his confusion, and came over to join them.

“You already opened my present for you, Robbie,” he said. “But you haven’t opened the kids’, and you got something from Santa as well.”

“Really?” Robbie took both of them hesitantly, and swallowed around a lump in his throat. The kids had gotten him a gift? Suddenly he was glad that he’d taken the time to make theirs.

Sportacus went over to the tree and handed out the last couple boxes- two for Chef Pablo, and one stray gift for Ziggy that had been overlooked- before telling the kids they could go ahead and start opening. For a long time there was nothing but the ripping of paper, delighted noises as everyone saw what their friends had given them, gratitude and cheer called across the table. Robbie waited to open his own, watching to see which of the kids would get to his gifts first.

It was Stingy, of course. Drawn by the largest of his boxes, he grabbed it immediately, and gave an “ohhhhh!” of delight when he saw it. He backed up from the table so he could hold it up, admiring the way that the “scales” caught the light and gleamed almost individually.

It was a cloak, one designed to mimic the pattern of a dragon’s scales, and there was a matching belt and gloves too. The other kids saw it and immediately set their gift opening aside so they could gather around Stingy and admire it.

“Who gave you that?” Trixie asked, touching the fabric with one careful hand. “It’s _beautiful_.”

“I don’t know- I didn’t look- hold on-” Stingy set the cloak down and pulled the card from the box. “It says it’s- from _Robbie_.”

Robbie found himself suddenly the center of attention. He felt his cheeks heating up, and shrugged. “Well- it’s not that big a deal- I mean- it was a slapdash job, really- I had the material lying around- you kids always have such appalling costumes-”

“Thank you, Robbie.”

“Okay.” Robbie snapped his mouth shut, and went back to staring down at his hands. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. The level of awe they were showing him and his work- because the other kids, upon realizing they probably had similar gifts, had grabbed the ones from him and were opening them now as well- should have him preening and basking in their praise. Instead he just felt embarrassed.

But the kids really did love their costumes. The one he was personally proudest of was Ziggy’s cape, since Robbie had been horrified by the blanket around his neck for years. Not just because of how horrible it looked, but also because he just _knew_  it was going to get snagged on something one of these days.

Not that he’d have ever admitted to worrying about the kid. But still. Even he had his limits.

The cape was made to be attached at his shoulders rather than his neck, and it would come off easily. Judging by the praise this got from the others, and the relief in Sportacus’s eyes when he realized what it meant, Robbie wasn’t the only one who’d been concerned.

The kids gathered around him now, all trying to hug him at once, chorusing their thanks. He looked down at them, startled, unsure of how to cope.

“I- I suppose you’ll be coming to me with all your costuming needs now,” he said. He tried to sound exasperated, but there was a certain hopefulness in his tone as well. Stephanie caught it, and turned to wink at Sportacus.

“Oh, no, Robbie,” she said. “We would _never_  dream of bothering you for something like that.”

“You- you could bother me a _little_.”

They went back to their other gifts after that, and Robbie was left alone to breathe. He looked around. Only Trixie remained, rubbing her thumb over the soft fabric of the bright red hood he’d given her. He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re actually being _quiet_  for once.”

“How did you know?” she said, almost a whisper.

He scoffed. “You break into my house at least once a week to talk about your _feelings_. Did you think I wasn’t _listening_?”

“Yes?”

“Go open your presents, Puck.”

He turned back to his own, planning to _finally_  open them, and was interrupted by Trixie throwing her arms around his middle, hugging him tight. “Thanks,” she said quietly, then pulled back and hurried over to her seat, already shouting at Stingy that _her_  costume was better than _his_. She was right, technically, because Robbie had put extra care into hers than the others, but the kids didn’t need to know that.

Robbie got all the way through opening his gift from Santa- a box of thread, a dozen colors forming a gradient in their box- when he realized that Sportacus was watching him with one raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Puck?”

“She’s enough of a nuisance,” Robbie said. “It seemed right.”

This got him an indecipherable look from Sportacus, but then the elf turned his attention to the tools in Robbie’s hand, and he grinned.

“The kids wrote to Santa about you,” he said. “They knew you probably weren’t on the nice list, and wanted to make sure you got something anyway.”

Robbie looked down at the thread thoughtfully. It wasn’t a spectacular gift, all of the colors were ones he could get from the store cheap, but it was still something that he could enjoy. He smiled, not quite sure why his eyes were wet when he felt so happy. 

Their gift for him was his favorite, though. It was a wide photo frame, and inside was a large collage of pictures, images taken from all of his schemes. Photos of him and them in costume, photos of them playing together, photos of him and Sportacus, and in the center, in place of pride, the group photo they’d all taken on the first day of summer, all of them gathered around in the town square dancing. They’d taken the shot at exactly the moment Sportacus had dipped Robbie, surprising both of them.

There were messages from the kids tucked in between the photos. He read them all, surprisingly touched by such a simple gift.

As much as Robbie was enjoying the Christmas party, the noise and excitement did eventually overwhelm him. His temples were throbbing with the weight of everything, and after checking that everyone was preoccupied with Stingy’s incredibly dramatic “death” at the hands of Trixie and her foam sword, he got up and tiptoed out into the frigid air, moving over to sit on the bench.

He took a few deep breaths, the tension he was feeling already lessening.

It was about ten minutes later that Sportacus joined him. His feet made almost no sound on the snow, so Robbie only noticed him when he was right there. To his credit, he _didn’t_  jump in surprise, but only because he’d been expecting Sportacus to turn up eventually anyway.

“May I sit with you, Robbie?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Absolutely. If you want to be alone-”

Robbie scoffed, and reached over to brush some snow off of the bench. Sportacus took the invitation for what it was and sat down, and for a moment there was just that, the two of them sat in comfortable silence. Robbie was surprised- he hadn’t realized Sportacus was capable of sitting still, but here he was, hands clasped in his lap, staring serenely out at the snow-covered town. Robbie frowned. 

“Are you okay?”

“I actually wanted to ask you the same thing. I saw you holding your head.”

“Just the noise.” Robbie shrugged. “I needed some quiet.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

Sportacus gave him a surprised look. “Of course. Everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes, even me, and everyone needs time alone. Some people need more than others.”

“Oh.”

They fell silent again. It was Sportacus who broke it this time.

“Did you sew a glamour into the kids’ costumes?”

“Only a small one.” Robbie gave him a sly smile. “You noticed?”

“I can see these things. Why?”

Robbie waved that away. “It wasn’t a true glamour. Just something to help their suspension of disbelief. It’s more fun that way.”

Sportacus hummed in agreement, apparently satisfied by Robbie’s answer. “Maybe I’ll get you to make me a costume,” he suggested. Robbie snorted.

“Sportaflop, if I make you a costume, it’ll be three sizes too small and the sleeves will be non-existent.”

Sportacus looked surprised at that, but not as surprised as Robbie felt. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Sportacus just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why?”

“Well.” Robbie hesitated, but, well, if he was going to make a fool of himself he might as well go the whole nine yards. “It’s illegal to conceal firearms. Wait.”

He frowned, and Sportacus turned a baffled look at him. “What?”

“Guns! It’s illegal to conceal _guns_. Oh gods.” He buried his face in his hands. “That was. Not right.”

“No.” Sportacus looked amused, and then suddenly burst out laughing. Robbie folded his arms, embarrassed, but Sportacus just shook his head. “No no, I’m not laughing at _you_ \- just- this isn’t how I expected this conversation to go.”

_This conversation_. Robbie’s ears started ringing. He huffed. “We are _not_  having a _conversation_ , Sportaloon.”

“No?”

“But, uh.” He cleared his throat. “If we _were-_ which we’re not!- how- how did you… _expect_  it would go?”

“Well. There are more pickup lines than I was expecting. And less shouting.”

“Shouting?”

“I thought at some point I’d get so frustrated with you that- well-” He broke off. Robbie noticed that his ears were pink, spreading down into his cheeks. He shook his head. “It’s my turn, right?”

“Turn for-”

But Sportacus had already moved, leaning into Robbie’s space like it was nothing, close enough that Robbie could feel the heat radiating off of him, could feel his words on his ear when he spoke, just loud enough that even if there was anyone around to hear, they wouldn’t have been able to.

“You know, Robbie,” Sportacus whispered, “I didn’t put this mistletoe on my hat for decoration.”

_Oh_. Robbie gave this a moment, letting his brain catch up to him, before turning so that he was facing Sportacus. He reached up with one hand to cup his jaw lightly, drawing Sportacus closer into a sweet, tender kiss.

Oh, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to include at least a little bit of Robbie with each of the kids, because I actually really love thinking about his relationships with each of them.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But why did the Ghosts come at all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had one last loose thread to tie up, but couldn't in the story proper, so I put in in the epilogue instead. Enjoy.
> 
> The names are just Icelandic for Number Nine and Number Ten, which I think everyone's sorta figure out by now? At least that's what google translate tells me, if I'm misinformed feel free to like yell at me or something. (Actually don't I'll probably cry.)

Santa landed his sleigh and climbed out heavily, making contented but exhausted noises while he headed back into the house. Behind him, he could hear the elves tending to the reindeer and the sleigh, and he left them to it, satisfied in the knowledge that they would be cared for after their hard night of work.

He had a visitor waiting for him in his study when he reached it, but he only had time to spare a greeting before there was a knock at the door. He hung his coat up and called entry; the door opened and a tall, thin man in purple stripes came in. Santa beamed.

“Bobby! Good, good, you’re here. And did you finish the job I gave you?”

“Yessir, Santa,” Bobby said. Santa held out a plate of cookies from his desk, and Bobby took three, stuffing one into his mouth and vanishing the other two with a wave of his hand, to give to his brothers later. “We’re pretty sure it worked out okay, Flobby says Robbie was crying when he left him.”

“A good sign, I think. I’ll do some scrying later and see how things went. As for your payment.” He reached into his shirt and brought out an envelope, which he handed over with a smile. “The rest will be delivered to your home as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Hey, thanks a bunch, Santa. See you around, then.”

He left, and Santa turned back to his visitor, who had kept his chair turned away from Bobby during the brief exchange. Santa sat down heavily into the other chair and began pulling off his boots.

“So tell me, old friend,” Santa said. “You’ve always called Robbie your biggest failure- what made you think that he could be put right now, of all times?”

IX just smiled, and touched a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. “Let’s just say… a little blue birdy put me onto the idea.”

-/-

An excerpt from a letter sent from Fjöldi Tíu to Fjöldi Níu, received approximately one week before Christmas.

_{…} instead argue about which sportscandy is better, apples or oranges! (Apples, of course.)_

_I did try your advice on my Robbie situation, but I’m not sure whether it worked or not. The only thing that **does**  seem to work at all is when the kids include him in their games. I encourage this, of course, but the burden of Robbie’s emotional healing should not fall on them. It should be to me as the adult and the “superhero” to help Robbie, not a bunch of small children who have their own emotional burdens to carry._

_I **do**  believe we’re getting through to him. He’s been leaving his lair and napping around town more often, sometimes even deliberately choosing the place near where the children are playing. Knowing whether he’s doing so so that he can be included, or merely invited, is always tricky, but I’ve been keeping an eye on him and I believe I’m getting better at reading him._

_I wish there was some way to show him how much we all love him. I’m sure that if he understood our inclusion was for everyone’s benefit, and not some cruel prank. I know that’s what he thinks, and why he gets so upset despite how much he loves to be included. I don’t know what happened to him as a child, since you refuse to tell me, but helping Robbie overcome it is proving to be the greatest challenge I have in LazyTown._

_I told the children I was sending a letter to my old mentor and they insisted on sending you some drawings, enclosed you’ll find {…}_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that that's done, let's get to the thanks! I'd like to give a big thank you to everyone who commented on this story and told me how much you were enjoying it! Also, thank you to everyone who left kudos, and also to everyone who read and enjoyed, even if you didn't leave anything at all. I just worked nine days straight (in retail), so having your comments to look forward to when I got home has been a big help to keep my spirits up.
> 
> Now then. I'm not sure I'm done writing in this verse. I went into this with the idea that it would be open ended regarding some headcanons I have and some of my own personal reads of the show, but I feel like while the story itself is fairly self-contained, there's enough in it that sets up plot points for a future piece of writing. I don't have anything solid to go on yet, but don't be surprised if I revisit this. Whatever else I write won't be a true sequel, I think, but we'll see. (Or maybe I'll just write another holiday parody. Who knows? Not fucking me!)
> 
> For those of you who have been waiting patiently for the next chapter of Time's a Gentle Stream: thank you for your patience! I'm going to get back to that one now that this one is done. c:


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